


he want that cake

by falloutgirl



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fraternity, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Rimming, the self indulgence continues it seems..., this entire fic is just...rimming.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 06:10:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17441414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falloutgirl/pseuds/falloutgirl
Summary: “I’m reasonable,” Jongin says, while taking off his pants, “so you’re gonna eat my ass.”“What?” Chanyeol feels like he’s just gotten whiplash.





	he want that cake

**Author's Note:**

> happy birthday Jongin! it is your birthday every day because time does not matter (i am 3 days late, whatever). 
> 
> fic is un beta'd, all mistakes are my own, etc etc. this is just gross annoying fratboys chankai ft some plot and romance because i am a pisces and there has to be love in here somewhere...
> 
> anyway... RIMMING FIC ....enjoy!

“You’d eat his ass... but you won’t eat mine?” Jongin slammed the door of Chanyeol’s room in the frat house shut. Chanyeol looks up to see Jongin. He’s fuming mad, after what Chanyeol guesses is another petty fight with Baekhyun, if the screeching and yelling that came from beyond his bedroom door earlier gave him any clue about it. 

“What?” Chanyeol asks, from where he’s laying on his bed, Nintendo Switch in hand. They’re supposed to go out later, for Jongin’s birthday dinner, but Jongin gives him the side eye, knowing full well Chanyeol hasn’t moved off the bed since he woke up this morning.

“Baekhyun,” Jongin repeats, like he’s talking to a child.

Chanyeol groans, “Don’t say his name,” he covers his eyes as his character dies in the game, “I’m embarrassed by it.” He puts his console away in the drawer.

“You cried enough about this three weeks ago I’m over it,” Jongin sits on the edge of Chanyeol’s bed. He has enough shirts ruined by Chanyeol’s tears and snot to last a lifetime. “Now tell me why you would eat his ass but you won’t eat mine.”

Chanyeol stares at Jongin until the words register in his brain and he makes a horrible choking sound. 

“Hey, that’s the same sound you make around my dick,” Jongin notes.

“Shut up, oh my god,  _ shut up _ ,” Chanyeol whines. He covers his face with his hands. “Why are we talking about this?” 

“Answer my question,” Jongin’s voice is nearing  _ shrieking  _ levels. Junmyeon’s ‘house rules on volume’ be utterly  _ damned _ . 

“Yes, okay?” Chanyeol admits, and his face is pinched, painful. “I ate his ass… what more do you want me to say?” He throws Jongin a look, shrugs his shoulders. “He didn’t like it. So I stopped. I didn’t even bother trying it on you. Figured you’d be the same...” Chanyeol’s voice trails off. 

“Am I Byun Baekhyun?” Jongin screeches, “He has no  _ ass  _ to eat.”

“Don’t be like this,” Chanyeol says, partly serious, but then a laugh bubbles out of his chest, “Come on, baby, don’t be silly.”

“I’m reasonable,” Jongin says, while taking off his pants, “so you’re gonna eat my ass.” 

“What?” Chanyeol feels like he’s just gotten whiplash. 

“Did I fucking  _ stutter _ ?” Jongin says, whiny. He’s naked now, in the middle of Chanyeol’s room, pout on his face, and arms crossed.

Chanyeol scrunches his face. “Right now?”

“Yes, now.”

“Are you cle—”

“Before I came in here. Duh. I’m  _ really _ clean.” 

Chanyeol rubs a hand over his stomach, shrugs his shoulders. He thinks about his video game that he’s been trying to beat for hours, figures he isn’t any closer than when he started like, roughly five hours ago. What can he say? Time sure does…  _ fly _ . 

A shudder ripples through Chanyeol’s body when he meets Jongin’s gaze. “Alright, if that’s what you want.” 

“It’s what I deserve after dealing with you slobbering on my dick every night,” Jongin throws back at him. 

“Hey!” Chanyeol says, bottom lip jutting out, pretending that the entire fiasco between Baekhyun and Jongin didn’t start because Baekhyun told everyone in the house that Chanyeol sucked dick with just a  _ little _ too much spit.

Jongin gives him a look.

“Okay, fine,” Chanyeol says, “I guess it’s a fair assessment of my blowjob skills.” He winces.

“Shush, I love it and you know it,” Jongin pushes Chanyeol to the side and lays face down, ass up on the bed, “I definitely love all the spit you give me,” he snorts, before he pushes the bag of Cheetos onto the ground and places the bottle of Coke onto the nightstand. God, Chanyeol is every bit the stereotypical frat boy, with his room an absolute  _ nightmare _ and his wardrobe and fashion choices even  _ worse _ . Jongin’s sure he has some of that god awful  _ Supreme x Kris Wu  _ collaboration line clothes in here  _ somewhere _ . No one man needs to own  _ that  _ much leopard print.

But he’s the frat boy of Jongin’s  _ dreams _ , no less, and so Jongin smiles to himself, and shimmies his hips a little. His bright red underwear is a stark contrast against his tan skin. 

Chanyeol takes his own pants off too, and throws them into the corner of his already messy room. He gets behind Jongin and runs a hand over the golden skin of his lower back and thighs. Chanyeol’s fingers cover the expanse of Jongin’s hips, as he spreads his  _ somewhat-a-boyfriend-but-not-really-a-boyfriend _ ’s legs further apart on the bed to make more space. 

“You smell like my body wash,” Chanyeol breathes against Jongin’s lower back. Chanyeol watches the way it sends a shiver down Jongin’s spine

“Are you gonna suck on the elastic of my underwear or are you going to eat my fucking ass?” 

Chanyeol snorts and chokes on his spit against Jongin’s skin. 

“Don’t ask,” Jongin says, “just do. And yes. I am mad about it.” 

Chanyeol chuckles as he snaps the elastic band against Jongin’s skin, and gets a loud moan in response. He does it two more times just for good measure. Chanyeol pulls Jongin’s underwear down and tosses it away. He takes both of Jongin’s cheeks in his hands, letting the flesh bounce and giggle in his palms. 

“Hurry up,” Jongin whines, and Chanyeol reaches a hand in front to feel Jongin’s cock already half hard from this. 

“Damn,” Chanyeol breathes, nearly in awe. 

“Just eat!” Jongin shouts, and Chanyeol pulls Jongin’s cheeks apart, to get to work, before he—

“You  _ waxed _ ?” Chanyeol holds Jongin’s ass cheeks apart and stares in awe. “Oh... oh my god... waxed... waxed  _ everything _ ...” 

Jongin smirks into his arm, “You like that shit, huh, baby?”

“It’s so clean...” Chanyeol’s voice is far off, another universe entirely. 

“And it hurt like a bitch,” Jongin pauses, “wait did you eat Baekhyun’s ass when it was—”

“Do not continue that statement,” Chanyeol whines, mouth ghosting along Jongin’s ass, teeth biting into the supple flesh. 

“Flossing much?”

“He  _ trimmed _ it okay, please just let it die!” Chanyeol bites Jongin’s ass hard enough to leave marks, and instead of Jongin yelling at him, Chanyeol is rewarded with a wonderful moan. 

“Oh god,” Jongin whines. He buries his face in his arms against the bed.

Chanyeol smirks against his ass, now feeling much more in his element. He breathes along Jongin’s rim, breath warm. “Hold yourself open for me,” Chanyeol asks and Jongin’s hands move like lightning to replace his. Chanyeol places his arms on the backs of Jongin’s upper thighs to use as leverage. He slowly teases Jongin with a tongue along his cheeks, carefully avoiding the rim. 

“Please do it already,” Jongin breathes harshly into the mattress. Chanyeol nods even though Jongin can’t see him, and dives in. 

He does quick kitten licks along Jongin’s rim, trying to get it as wet as possible, but with as much as they’ve been fucking recently, Jongin’s body seems to respond quicker than usual. Chanyeol grins, self-satisfied,  _ haters be damned. _ He squeezes Jongin’s thighs tighter in his grip, hoping to leave behind a bruise. Nothing gets Chanyeol more riled up than the other boys in the frat giving Jongin funny looks because he’s limping. It sends a fire coiling in the pit of his gut that makes him feel accomplished like no other. A sense of pride that not even rush week—when he gets to spend his time mentoring the new pledges—can beat. He can hear Jongin’s labored breathing as his tongue swipes over the rim again, anticipating Chanyeol fucking him open with his mouth. 

“Oh-oh  _ fuck _ ,” Jongin whines loud, louder than he’s ever been during any other sexual act they’ve done. “Please,  _ please _ , oh fuck,” he cries. 

Chanyeol sticks his tongue straight out and starts to lap up at Jongin’s hole, eager to enter him like this, thinking he’d never get the chance to try it. Thinking he would never be allowed this level of intimacy with Jongin. It’s funny to think that three weeks ago Jongin had found him crying all over his Nintendo Switch because of Baekhyun. That Jongin had let him cry even more on his shoulder, and ruin that cute “ _ I’M THE BEARST”  _ shirt that Kyungsoo had gotten him for his birthday last year. Cheeto stains were hard to get out of white fabric too, apparently. 

It’s amazing to Chanyeol to think that never in the three years so far of being in his fraternity did Jongin ever cross his mind—like this. But now? Now it’s like he can’t think of any other. 

Jongin’s moans sound broken against the mattress and Chanyeol knows he’s drooling profusely all over Jongin’s ass, spit coming out in rivulets down the sides of his mouth as he unabashedly continues to lick and poke and prod at Jongin’s over sensitive hole. He goes a step further again, Jongin’s delicate whimpers the sweetest music he’s ever heard.

“Again, again,” Jongin cries, arms in pain as he continues to hold himself open. 

Chanyeol changes his grip from the back of Jongin’s thighs to the front, in an effort to pull him down harder onto his face. Chanyeol wants to get him off just like this, have Jongin crying and begging just from being eaten out alone. 

“Holy fuck,” Chanyeol says, resting his cheek against Jongin’s ass, he wipes his face with the back of his hand, “I have an idea.” He moves himself to lay on his back, and pulls Jongin to straddle over his lap. Chanyeol makes himself as flat as possible against the bed, and pushes Jongin up til he’s hovering over his face. 

“Ride me,” Chanyeol says, eyes never leaving Jongin’s face.

“What,” Jongin’s breathless like he’s just run a marathon. His hair is sticking to his face in patches while his cock bobs red and hard against his abdomen. 

“Hold onto the headboard and ride my  _ fucking _ face, baby,” Chanyeol says again, this time with  _ feeling _ . 

Jongin isn’t one to argue with that. 

This position works out better, Chanyeol thinks, as he pushes his tongue out and holds Jongin’s cheeks apart. He’s got Jongin sitting basically on his chin, hole hovering over Chanyeol’s mouth. He taps Jongin’s thighs once to tell him to move and Jongin starts pushing in earnest, using the wall as leverage. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jongin screams, head thrown back, “fuck, fuck,  _ fuck _ !” He yells, voice cracking. Chanyeol’s eyes go up and he sees how red Jongin is, flush evident even beyond his tan skin, cheeks red with exertion, eyes fucked out and  _ wild _ . Jongin looks beautiful when he’s frazzled, when he’s off his rocker—hell, Chanyeol even likes it when Jongin’s pissed. His face scrunches up into a tight line, eyes become crescents, and he lashes out at Chanyeol like there’s never another time to get mad except in that moment.

Chanyeol squeezes Jongin’s ass, slaps one cheek playfully. Jongin whines. He continues to let Jongin ride on his tongue, thrusting it in and out of Jongin’s tight hole as much as he can manage. Chanyeol can feel his own spit all over his face and his neck, and it’s so hot, so fucking hot, to finally have Jongin above him this way. He releases one ass cheek and moves his fingers to where his tongue is, and with all the slobber and spit around, it’s enough to push one inside. 

“J-Jesus, fuck,  _ Chanyeol _ !” Jongin all but wails, voice cracking and eyes tearing up at the corners. Chanyeol looks up and catches Jongin’s gaze, smirk evident in his eyes. 

“I’m, ugh—oh  _ fuck _ , I—hngng,” Jongin moans, “I-I’ll fu- _ ucking  _ kill you,” he threatens. Chanyeol rolls his tongue against Jongin’s hole and he screams once again. 

Jongin’s pace gets faster, more erratic, and Chanyeol can’t believe he’s getting close. He fucks his tongue and finger in Jongin more earnestly now, faster, to try and get him off quicker. Chanyeol’s finger brushes against Jongin’s prostate and he sits back and absolutely  _ revels  _ in the way Jongin lets loose the most unholy scream. Chanyeol pushes against his prostate, again and again and again, before adding another finger. Jongin’s all about stopped moving of his own volition now, just barely holding himself up above Chanyeol’s face. 

Chanyeol pauses for a moment, moving his face slightly to the side to speak, “sit down.” His voice is hoarse, breathless, and raspy.

“Fuck,” Jongin cries, “Are you sure?” he breathes painfully, he knows he’s not light. 

“Positive,” Chanyeol repeats and pulls Jongin’s entire body weight onto his face before Jongin can get another word in edgewise. He pushes his tongue inside Jongin as far as it’ll go, along with his two fingers, and gets back to work eating and fucking and licking him up as much as possible. Jongin cries above Chanyeol, tears all over his cheeks, eyes barely open, face a  _ mess— _ and  _ i _ t’s quite possibly the hottest sight Chanyeol thinks he’ll ever see. 

His tongue brushes against Jongin’s prostate, just barely able to reach it at this angle, but it’s enough to have Jongin nearly careening off Chanyeol’s face to make peace with the headboard and the wall ahead of him. Chanyeol giggles internally, breathless at Jongin’s actions, while he pushes and pushes and pushes against Jongin’s sweet spot with everything he has, his fingers his tongue—while gripping Jongin’s hip so tight in the other hand it will surely leave a bruise—

And all at once, Jongin makes a croaking sound, like a man strangled, like the air has been punched deeply out of his lungs, and comes untouched all over his abdomen and Chanyeol’s hair. Chanyeol takes the lead and pushes Jongin over onto his back on the mattress, to give his own neck and face a break. There’s spit everywhere, on Chanyeol’s hands, his face, his chest, his fucking  _ hair _ , but Chanyeol fucks his fingers hard inside Jongin, determined to work him through his nearly coma-inducing orgasm. 

“T-too much,” Jongin’s voice cracks, and he tries to push Chanyeol’s hand away, but Chanyeol slaps him and keeps going, keeps pressure on Jongin’s prostate, watches the tears fall in rivers down Jongin’s cheeks, until his back arches up nearly a foot off the bed, while a guttural scream rips through Jongin’s body, and he comes again for a second time. 

“Oh,” Jongin says. He can’t say much more. 

Chanyeol grabs a T-shirt off the ground and wipes his hand and face with it. There’s spit on his collarbones and his neck aches from telling Jongin to sit on it, but the look in Jongin’s eyes is worth it. 

“I love rimming,” Jongin breathes out, small, legs and arms spread out wide and boneless. 

“Can we do that again?” Chanyeol asks. 

Jongin nearly goes cross eyed at Chanyeol’s enthusiasm. “You—”

“I told you I liked it. Baekhyun didn’t. It’s why I didn’t bother asking you.” 

“How are you real...” Jongin murmurs, brain in _lalaland._

“How are you real,” Chanyeol fires back, smirking. 

“You’re still hard,” Jongin whines, hands trying to reach for where Chanyeol’s cock is neglected, and still in his boxers. “Let me.” 

“Can I fuck you?” Chanyeol blurts out instead, already pushing his clothing away.

“Only because you ate my ass,” Jongin rolls his eyes. He pulls his legs up against his chest, presenting himself to Chanyeol. 

Chanyeol grabs the lube from under his pillow and rubs some on his fingers. He easily sticks two in. “Best cake I ever ate,” he laughs, “and it’s not even  _ my  _ birthday.”

“Shut up and fuck me already,” Jongin yells. “I don’t even like cake,” he grumbles as an afterthought.

“I like yours,” Chanyeol snorts, pushing himself in, hands bracing on either side of Jongin’s head. He swings one of Jongin’s legs over his shoulder to better the angle.

“Just lie back,” Chanyeol says, “let me do all the work.” He starts thrusting in earnest now. “It’s your birthday, baby.”

“Fuck, it is,” Jongin agrees, cock twitching against his abdomen, lopsided smile on his face, “it’s my fucking birthday.”

Chanyeol gives Jongin a smile back, before surging forward to kiss it off his lips. Jongin reacts in kind, running his fingers deeply in Chanyeol’s hair, tugging and pulling the strands, scratching lightly at his scalp. 

It doesn’t take much more than that really, for Chanyeol to come undone. The sounds Jongin makes under him, the sounds Jongin made when Chanyeol got to taste him—Chanyeol’s never gonna forget this, he’s never gonna forget his time, here, on this ratty bed in his room in the frat house, laying down next to Jongin, fucking him and tasting him and touching him every single night, lying next to him in the dark when the only other person who lent him a shoulder to cry on was the man underneath him. All at once, Chanyeol feels himself overcome with a well of emotions for Jongin, for his  _ not-really-a-boyfriend- _ boyfriend, for all their times spent together and apart.

Chanyeol closes his eyes and comes softly, with nothing more than a whimper and Jongin’s name on his lips. 

He rolls off him easily and then turns to face Jongin. They’re both disgusting in this state, but they’ve seen each other at places worse than this.

“You said you love rimming,” Chanyeol says, unsure of what else to say. The dam behind his tongue threatens to break out from beneath him.

“I do love it,” Jongin breathes, chest heaving. There’s a look in his eyes that Chanyeol can’t place. A sort of farawayness that Chanyeol has never quite noticed before. Like Jongin’s got a secret he doesn’t want to share… like maybe— 

Jongin reaches out hand to touch Chanyeol’s cheek, a caress, an invitation, “I only like it because it’s from you,” he whispers. 

_ Because it’s you _ , is what Chanyeol hears. “What?” he feels light as air.

“You’re so silly, Chanyeol,” Jongin starts, a knowing smirk crossing his face. The look leaves his eyes and is replaced with warmth, “sometimes you miss what’s right in front of you.”

_ Oh my god,  _ Chanyeol thinks, and suddenly everything from three weeks ago makes sense. Every time Jongin defended him, every time Jongin stood up for him… every time Jongin gave him that  _ look,  _ like he was expecting Chanyeol to get it sooner rather than later. “For—what? How long?” Chanyeol gulps.

Jongin stares into his eyes, “Does it matter?” 

Chanyeol shrugs, thinks of Jongin’s laughter and his snoring and his bright, bright eyes. “I guess… I guess, no, it doesn’t.” Chanyeol wagers a small smile in Jongin’s direction.

“Thank you Chanyeollie,” Jongin continues, rubbing his hand on Chanyeol’s face, “for the birthday gift.”

“I would eat your ass any day,” Chanyeol responds quickly, “and…” he lets his voice trail off before grabbing Jongin’s cheeks, “only because it’s yours, too.”

The smile that breaks across Jongin’s face is enough to light Chanyeol’s dreams for the rest of eternity.

“You mean that, huh?”

“I wouldn’t lie about this,” Chanyeol says, “you know me… always wearing my heart on my sleeve… stupid…” his voice trails off.

Jongin heaves himself off his back to roll over closer into Chanyeol’s space. “No,” he says, “what the boys say… it doesn’t matter,” Jongin brushes Chanyeol’s hair back, “they all joke, we know, we all laugh… but I, for one, thought it was cute when you would recite your shitty poetry to Baekhyun at 4 in the morning every Thursday.”

“You  _ heard  _ that?” Chanyeol squawks.

“Everyone did,” Jongin laughs, “We just didn’t want to say anything to you.”

“Well now I’m embarrassed,” Chanyeol says shyly.

They lay in silence for a while, before Jongin grabs Chanyeol’s hand tightly.

“Look at me,” Jongin says, and Chanyeol listens.

“Your heart is the best thing about you,” Jongin says softly, “I’m glad you’re giving me the chance to keep it.”

“No,” Chanyeol responds back, “ _ your  _ heart is the best thing about  _ you _ ,” he cups Jongin’s face, “you make me so happy… what the fuck?” 

Jongin blushes.

“God, I think I love you,” Chanyeol blurts out, uncaring, riding on a high, “Thank  _ you _ … for giving me the chance to try and keep you. I’ll do my best for you.”

“Your best is perfect,” Jongin says, cuddling closer, “maybe you can even write me some poetry, too,” Jongin snorts.

“Happy Birthday, Jonginnie,” Chanyeol says, laughing, eyes a little wet, “No, I’m not crying.”

Jongin wipes the tears from his eyes, “Of course you aren’t, baby,” he says, and holds him closer. 

Chanyeol returns the favor.

**Author's Note:**

> find me here on [twitter](https://twitter.com/kimjuncottonsgf) where i cry abt my exo boyz
> 
> Bahaha gonna just include here I love baekhyun this was all just for laughs....xD


End file.
